Who Needs Research?
by prince hans
Summary: Stiles and Lydia think that five hours is a long enough time to do research. To relax from a stressful day full of vague encyclopedias and internet searches, they decide to kick back, watch a movie or two, stuff their faces with enough food to feed a hungry wolf pack, and some more... patented relaxation techniques. That means kissing.


They were hours into studying at this point. Stiles guessed it was around 10:00, which meant it had been more than five hours since they had first began. Releasing a long, drawn out sigh, Stiles closed his book and flopped back on his bed. A head full of ginger popped up to peek over the bed covers, squinting at Stiles.

"What are you doing?" Lydia asked, pursing her perfectly pink lips. "You better not be slacking."

Stiles groaned and grabbed a pillow, smushing it over his face. "We've been reading for hours," he tried to say, but the pillow muffled his words, coming out sounding like 'Weef b' read'n fer hours.' Lydia got the gist it seemed, because not a moment later, a heavy, ancient bestiary found its home on his diaphragm. The weight of the book knocked the wind from his lungs and he spluttered angrily, knocking the book off and sending such a glare at the banshee that even she was left speechless.

"It's been five hours, Lydia, and we've found _nothing_. I think it's safe to say we deserve a break, right? We could at least get some food, I'm _starving_." To prove his point, his stomach grumbled loudly and the boy huffed, crossing his arms over his chest with a frown.

Lydia raised a perfectly plucked brow. "Someone's a little grumpy, I take it?" Stiles only offered a grunt in reply, and Lydia decided dinner wasn't such a bad idea. She got to her feet and brushed the dust from the old books off her pretty blue pencil skirt.

"Fine, let's get something to eat."

Stiles immediately perked up at her compliance, nearly falling off the bed in his mad dash to grab his wallet. Lydia watched with amused eyes as he flipped through the paper bills to make sure he had enough, his body practically bouncing up and down with impatient excitement.

"Pizza?" he asked, quirking a bushy brow. Lydia puckered her lips.

"How about subs?" she suggested, and Stiles shrugged.

"Works for me."

* * *

They returned back from the local sub shop (and various other shops to grab unnecessary snacks) around 11:00, both teenagers holding bulging bags of enough food to feed an entire wolf pack. Or, you know, a very hungry Isaac. Lydia moved to start up the steps, but Stiles grabbed her wrist, guiding her into the living room. He sat her down on the couch and handed her the drinks he was balancing precariously in the crook of his arm, before searching around for the remote.

"Stiles, we should be working," Lydia said with a frown. Stiles snorted and flipped on the television.

"We've _been _working, Lydia. I think we can afford a bit of relaxation."

Lydia pursed her lips, but didn't offer a reply. She had been starting to get a headache from all the reading. Maybe some food and a bit of t.v. wasn't such a bad idea. Waving her hand flippantly, she began to search through the various bags for her sandwich, strawberry curls spilling over her shoulder.

She hadn't noticed Stiles was staring at her until she tossed him his sandwich, which hit him right in the face. He fell backwards, startled. Lydia gave him a pointed look. "You have the reflexes of a three-toed sloth."

"I'll have you know the three-toed sloth could be the most dangerous creature on this earth if it was faster!" Stiles argued, sitting back up to unwrap his sub and take an unnaturally large bite from it.

Lydia smiled sweetly, "Sloths are known to die from falling off trees for being too slow to grab the next branch." Stiles didn't have a witty response for that, so he turned his attention back to the television. His eyes fell on a channel marathoning Star Wars.

"No," Lydia said from her place on the couch.

"But Lydia-"

"I'm not watching Star Wars with you, Stiles."

"I'm not watching The Notebook with you, either!"

They glared at each other for a long time, competing to see who would cave first. If there was one thing Stiles was sure about, it was that he was going to win.

* * *

Stiles shoved his hand into the bag of popcorn, picking out the last bits of kernels and slightly singed pieces to shove in his mouth as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"He wrote her everyday for a year!" he wailed, watching as the star-crossed lovers kissed passionately in the rain. "It's true love!"

Lydia silently handed him a tissue, slapping his knee to make him shut up. Her eyes, completely dry, stared intently at the screen. The two figures embraced, the heavy rain around them making it hard to tell if they were crying or not.

"_I love you_."

"_And I love you_."

Stiles cried loudly through his wad of tissues.

* * *

When the movie was over, Stiles had cried his way through a box of tissues and had eaten everything in sight. He was still sniffling when Lydia turned off the television and looked over to him, giving him a mockingly empathetic smile.

"I take it you liked the movie?" she asked sweetly, making Stiles moan and flop backwards onto the couch.

"I _hated _it," he sniffled mournfully. "I can't believe you would show me this."

"It's a good movie!"

"It's a _sad _movie," Stiles argued before dragging himself into a standing position to gather the large expanse of empty food wrappers before him. Lydia bent over to help, and the two went to the kitchen to throw everything in the garbage.

"I mean, what kind of romance is like that?" Stiles asked, rambling off his thoughts about the movie. "Absolutely no one's! Why is it so unnecessarily sad, like holy shit! I feel like I need to punch something to prove my manliness again."

"How do you know relationships aren't like that? Aren't you still a virgin?" Lydia countered, raising her brows. "Have you ever kissed someone?"

Stiles huffed at her. "I actually have kissed someone, thank you very much."

"Oh really? Who?"

He was silent for a moment, the playful grin on his lips slowly disappearing as if he had remembered something awful. He looked at the floor, suddenly very interested in the tiles. "Heather," he said slowly, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat. The room was cast into an uncomfortable silence.

"Oh, crap. Stiles, I'm sorry," Lydia said uncertainly, moving to place her hand on his shoulder. Stiles shrugged out of her grip, offering her a weak smile instead.

"It's fine," he said sadly. It was quiet in the kitchen again, until Stiles broke the silence again. "It's not like she was the only one, really. Technically speaking."

"Oh?"

"Yeah… you. You kissed me once, remember?" He barked out a bitter laugh. "But that doesn't count, right? You were just getting me to hold my breath."

Lydia recalled the memory in disturbingly vivid detail. Stiles was having a panic attack in the locker room, and nothing Lydia was doing could stop it. Until a brilliantly stupid idea struck her, and Lydia did what she did best. She kissed him, and somehow it managed to stop the panic attack. When Stiles had questioned her doubtfully, she imagined up an excuse.

"Yeah, didn't count," she joked just to add something to the lacking conversation. "I bet you wished it did. Didn't you say you had a crush on my since third grade?" She laughed, it was a well known fact among the werewolves and co. in Beacon Hills. It was usually the butt of their jokes, how enamored Stiles was with the strawberry headed girl.

Stiles laughed with her. "Yeah," he agreed, "Yeah, I have." He smiled at Lydia, but his eyes were still sad. Lydia outstretched her hand, and Stiles stared at it uncertainly before slowly putting his hand in her's. She tugged him towards the stairs.

"Come on, let's go to your room. We still have work to do." Stiles followed her silently/ When they got up to his room, they walked past the books and made towards the bed. Stiles sprawled out atop the covers, while Lydia sat down on the edge of the sheets. He watched her with curious eyes.

"I thought we were going to keep studying?" he asked, the words coming out more like a question than a statement.

"Do you _want _to keep studying?" Lydia quipped, tossing her curls over her shoulder to give him a look. Stiles smiled meekly.

"Not really."

"Me either. Get some sleep."

Stiles rolled over on his side, facing Lydia's backside. He was quiet for a moment. "I wanted it to count," he whispered quietly, so faint that Lydia had trouble hearing him. "I really wanted it to count," he said louder. When Lydia turned to him, he was blushing from his neck up.

"Wanted what to count?" Lydia asked him, even though she knew the answer.

"The kiss." Stiles sat up, watching Lydia with curious eyes. "You're going to say no, but… Can I?"

"Can you what?" Lydia had a knack for making things difficult. It was just a knee jerk response for everything. Boys didn't need to walk on their tiptoes around her.

"Lydia…" He licked him laps, bracing himself for the inevitable answer, and possibly a slap in the face. "Can I kiss you?"

She nodded the smallest part of a fraction, but Stiles saw it, and his breath got stuck in his throat. Lydia Martin… wanted to _kiss him_?! He felt dizzy.

"Hurry up before I change my mind," Lydia said, snapping him back to reality. He moved forward on the bed so that they were only inches away from each other. He licked his lips nervously, and slowly closed the gap between them.

The kiss was simple, really. Stiles was too nervous to do anything extensive, and Lydia's mind was in a buzz. When he moved away, Stiles' pupils were blown wide and heavily lidded. He didn't need to ask before he moved in again, bringing a hand up to her cheek and cupping it gently. His hand was clammy with a nervous sweat, but Lydia hardly minded. When the kiss didn't progress after a moment, Lydia figured Stiles was too nervous, and took initiative, deepening the kiss between them.

Somehow they ended up lying across the bed, Lydia's shirt unbuttoned to expose her pretty pink bra, and Stiles bare from the waist up. He stopped them from going any further, but still peppered Lydia's neck in nips and kisses.

"This was supposed to be _one_ kiss," he mumbled into her throat, feeling her vocal cords vibrate as she laughed.

"It was until I figured out you were an amazing kisser. Seriously Stiles, I didn't know you had it in you."

"I watch a lot of porn." The words left his mouth before he could stop them, a default, knee-jerk response he normally only gave to Scott. Stiles shot up, eyes wide. "Shit. Fuck, I mean. Shit."

Lydia laughed aloud, different from her usual smirk and chuckle. Stiles watched her smile, a real smile, with an awed look on his face. Noticing him staring, Lydia stopped laughing.

"Why'd you stop?" Stiles asked with a frown. Lydia shifted uncomfortably beneath him.

"I don't like my laugh. Or my smile," she admitted, unsure of why she was even telling him this. Stiles scoffed in disbelief, as if he couldn't understand a single word she was saying.

"Lydia, what the actual hell are you talking about?" He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. "You are the most beautiful human being I've ever laid eyes on." Lydia couldn't help but smile into the kiss as she laced her hands around his back, pulling him down closer to her.

"Technically, I'm not human," she countered, making Stiles snort.

"Shut up," he said, kissing her again, both of them completely ignoring the textbooks and encyclopedias sitting discarded on the floor.

* * *

**A/N: i wrote this during school because who _actually_ needs to learn about latin when you could be writing about two goofballs crying over The Notebook? **  
**my tumblr is sstiliinski B)**


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